


Destiel Post Season Nine One Shot

by Formattingme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formattingme/pseuds/Formattingme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Direct continuation one-shot of post season nine.</p>
<p>Cas and Sam search for Dean and Cas is forced to spill his feelings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>((I may continue this later and make it longer, but for now I'm leaving it at this.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I already know there's spelling errors, but frankly, I'm lazy.

POV CASTIEL  
I couldn’t get back to the bunker quick enough, my dying grace of no concern to me. Dean’s dead?! I should’ve stabbed Metatron right then and there. I have to save him, I have to do everything I can. When I get to the door, I stop myself to take a deep breath. I grab the key Dean gave me out of my pocket and enter slowly and quietly.  
“Sam?” I call, no answer. “Sam!?”  
I search around until I find him in the dungon, in the middle of a summons. He’s muttering latin, and I can already tell he’s calling Crowley. I walk up to him and put my hand on his shoulder, and he jumps a mile.  
“Cas, what the hell!? Can’t you see I’m busy??!!” he screams at me, all the while tears streaming endlessly down his cheeks. I ignore his anger and pull him into a hug. To be honest, the hug was more for me than him, only I wish I was hugging Dean.  
“Where is he?” I ask as I pull away.  
“His room, can you save him?” he says as if he was pleading me to do something, anything, to save his brother, no matter the conciquences. Just as I start to walk out of the dark, cold, dull room, Crowley is in the doorway. Sam pushes past me to take a swing at him, but he just teleports to the other side of the room. I turn to face him, seeing Moose charge at him again.  
“You got him into this!” he screams, obviously trying not to cry, “this is y-our fault!” his voice breaks, and my heart with it. A wave of human sadness rushes through me, and I feel the urge to cry as well. Before I fell, I would have never even thought about crying— can angels even do such a thing?— but now, now it’s all I can think about, well, that and Dean.  
“Moose! Calm down. I have a little secret for you…” he taunts, and rage surges in my veins. “Dean is no longer in his room, in fact, he should be pulling away in the impala right…. now.” He smiles polietly, but it only makes my anger stronger. I ball my fists and wait for him to continue. “He told me it’d be easier if he left.”  
“Dean is dead, Metatron killed him, he died in my ARMS, how dare you joke like this. This is a new low, even for scum like you,” sam spits venomously.   
“You’re right, of course. But there’s something you should know—“ he leans in close to Sam and whispers in his ear, too quiet for even me to hear. And with that, he disappears, and I can’t hold it back. I punch the wall with all the strength my dying grace will give me. The cement blocks crumble under my fist, breaking apart easily as if I hadn’t even tried, and yet I’m at the weakest I’ve ever been. If I had my wings, I’d fly into that impala, no matter how it weakens me. But I can’t.   
“Sam, what did he say,” I growl, my teeth gritted, hands still in fists and slightly bloody. He looks at his feet, and takes what feels like enterity to face me. He just can’t seem to look me in the eye. He fiddles with his hands for a bit before glancing up at me for a split second. “Sam!” I bark impatiently. He looks up at me again, this time lingering his eyes for a bit longer, until he begins to speak.  
“Crowley said… well… he said that Dean is a demon. Like Cain. The mark wouldn’t let go of him. So he ran off, thinking we hate him.”  
“I do not hate him, Sam,” I say simply, trying to show the restraint that was oh so easy to do as an angel, but instead, I feel my face getting wet. I reach my hand up, realizing that this wetness is tears. I lower my head, and this time it’s Sam who hugs me. I give into this unfamiliar emotion and the tears turns into sobbing. I really meant it, I don’t hate Dean. In fact, I don’t really care, Dean will always be Dean to me, my hunter. But I’ve been in his mind, I know what he thought of himself as only a human, and I fear what he might do. I fear he might hate himself even more now, or think that I hate him, which is just impossible. I gave up my army for him, I gave up everything for him and I would do it all over again. Sam holds the hug for some time longer, and it feels nice, but it’s not enough, I won’t be happy again without Dean.

*

We’ve been driving through the night, trying to stay on Dean’s tail, though it seems are attempts are useless. He’s still so far ahead of us and we have no idea where he’s going. Sam’s driving, and I’ve been staring quietly out the window for hours. I’ve seen some interesting sights, but nothing will satisfy me until I see him. Nothing else is good enough.  
“So Cas,” Sam starts out of the blue, turning the radio station he has on down, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was wondering… you’re going to die, Cas. What are you going to do about your grace?”  
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I have an idea… but I’m not sure it’ll work. I know I’ve got less than a week, but I’m more concerned with finding Dean.”  
“You realize you can’t find him if you’re dead, right?”  
“I know, Sam.”  
“Then what was that idea of yours?”  
“I was thinking… until I find my true grace… maybe I could become human again?” I ask it as if it’s a question, not sure how he’ll respond. It takes him a minute.  
“Okay, so, how would you do that?”  
“Remember how Anna fell? She cut out her own grace. I’d have to cut out this grace, and it’s going to hurt. A lot.”  
“Is there any way to find your grace?” I think for a moment, knowing that I could extract the grace left by me in Dean to find it, but it would hurt him. It wouldn;t kill him like it could've sam, because sams only human. I do not want to hurt Dean.  
“Not that I know of,” I lie. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. We continue driving, picking up trials and hints on where he might be going, but after two days of only stopping for food, and driving endlessly, we realize where he’s going. The roadhouse. 

*

We get there at two in the morning, and sure enough the impala is parked out front. I dash out of the car and up to the door, but I can feel it, warding. Angel warding. He doesn’t want me here. Though it does occur to me that he probably doesn’t want anybody here, he doesn’t want to be found. Suddenly, I fall to my knees, gripping my stomach and groaning in pain.  
“Cas!” Sam yells in a whisper, running over to me, “What’s wrong!?”  
“I-I have to cut m-my grace out now!” I pant, trying not to give Dean any hint that we’re there, in case he decides to smoke out. “The warding drained all of my remaining power, I got too close!”  
He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, running us back to the car. He puts me in the backseat and gets in himself to start driving.  
“Where should we go?!” he asks, panic evident in his voice.  
“To the nearest field, but far enough away that he won’t hear me scream,” I respond, and I can see the pity in his eyes through the rearview mirror. It takes about 15 minutes to get too a clearing far enough away from Dean, I know my angelic voice is too loud to take any chances.  
“Sam, please-“ I gasp, “I need an angel blade from the trunk.”  
Reluctantly, he opens the trunk while I stagger into the field and fall to my knees. Sam joins next to me, handing my the blade.  
“Stand back.” I order, “and close your eyes.”  
I drive the blade into my now empty vessels skin, cutting out the grace. I scream in agony, it’s like a million blades and needles shredding under my skin, light pouring out of me. I try not to scream any louder, but my angelic voice chimes in and waves trees around me, knocking them over and wind spurring around. Sam covers his ears, and as I cut the rest out, the screams get louder, the pain coursing through my veins. Slowly, finally, the last of the grace pours out of my body. When Metatron cut out my grace, he healed me afterwords, I do not now have the same luxury. I topple to the ground in human pain, much worse than what just a minute ago felt like the worst pain ever. Sam runs to my side.  
“I have to take you to the hospital!” He says, picking me up carefully.  
“No! No I want to see Dean!”  
“Cas you’re going to die!”  
“Take. Me. To. Dean.” I demand, and he sighs heavily and takes me back to the backseat of the car. I lay across the seat, blood pooling on it. Luckily, this isn’t Dean’s impala. Dean. Despite all my pain, all my suffering and many other pressing issues, his name was the only thing running through my mind. His sea foam green eyes, his perfect hair and such strong features… Since the last time I was human, I’ve felt differently about Dean. As an angel, I thought of him as the human I have to guard, the one I must protect. And even at times when I didn’t do that, he didn’t give up on me. But when I was human I felt mostly sadness and guilt. I blamed myself for everything and cried myself to sleep every night until Dean found me. And I didn’t feel so scared and alone and broken anymore… in fact… I felt love. And when he kicked me out, I felt heartbreak. But knowing the reason why now softens the blow, but at the time— it’s a wonder I didn’t commit suicide. But being an angel after that, the feelings didn’t go away. Granted, I didn’t feel them as profoundly— that is not until they told me it was Dean or my army. Being human again, even for this short period of time, I feel it so strongly again. I feel the desire to be with him and be there for him in ways beyond what I have in the past. I don’t want to be his hunting buddy, I don’t want to be his friend, I just want to be his. Completely.


	2. Chapter Two

Sam pulls back up to the road house, and I limp my way to the door. There’s no use knocking, so I try the handle. Locked. Just then Sam comes up from behind and pulls out a lock pick, easily getting inside the door. We quietly enter the room, and I scan it completely, but he’s not here. The impala is outside but Dean is no where to be found.  
“I’m gonna try the back room, okay?” Sam whispers, walking up the door sliding it open as softly as he can. I blink for a second and Sam is flung across the room. He bashes into the wall with an UHMF and falls to the ground.  
“Dean-“ I start, my breath hitched from the pain, “it’s-it’s just us.” I collapse onto the hard wood floor, trying to hold myself back up with one hand, the other gripping my side where I cut my grace out.  
“Cas?! Sam!?” he yells, his voice rough and breaky. “I didn’t know- how did you find me!?” his tone turns into anger. He holds his hand up, lifting Sam off the ground without actually touching him. He stumbles at first but finds his balance.  
“We followed you.”  
“How?” he questions, starting to pull me off the ground as well. I groan in pain, but my human form has hop control over Dean’s demonic powers. “C-Cas?! What the hell!? What’s wrong!?” he releases his grip, but runs over and catches me when I start to fall.  
“I cut out my fading grace,” I say, spitting out a little bit of blood when I talk .  
“So what? You’re human again?” he asks, and I pretend not to notice the slight smirk that creeps on his face.  
“Yes.”  
“I told him that he needs to go to a hospital.” Sam pipes up, coming over to help us. “I need to take him.”  
“I do not think that is necessary,” I say before closing my eyes and beginning to pray.  
Hannah, if you can hear me, this is Castiel. And I need your help.  
Within seconds, a flutter of wings sounds in the room. When she sees me, her smile turns to a look of worry.  
“Cas!?” She gasps, “What happened!?”  
“I cut out my grace, I need you to heal me, please.” and with that she comes over and places a hand on my wounds, sealing them up. I moan but once it’s healed, it’s as if it never hurt at all. “Thank you.”  
“Heaven could really use a new leader…” she starts. “I could help you find your true grace…”  
“Hannah, I told you before, I am no leader. And I am no angel. But if you want to help me find my grace I could be of some service to you in the future,” I offer, and she just shakes her head.  
“It’s Dean, isn’t it?”  
My pulse races, and my palms get incredibly hot. My stomach turns and I look over to see that my face is bright red in the mirror on the wall. Damn human emotions. Before I can say anything back, she flutters away. Oh no oh no oh no.  
“Cas, what did she mean by, ‘it’s me?’” he questions, walking toward me. His eyes turn black, and fear strikes my heart— not of Dean being a demon, but of the fact that he clearly doesn’t feel the same way. I wish I had wings so I could fly away, but there is no getting out of this one. “Sam, could you give us a minute?” And with that I’m starting to freak out. I try not to let it show, but as I human I can’t exercise the same restraint. I fiddle my hands and rock slowly, avoiding eye contact. Sam looks worried, by exits the room all the same.  
“Why’d you come find me, Cas? Why’d you give up your army for me? Why, Cas, why?” he’s begging for answers, but I stay silent, staring at my feet. He grabs my shirt and hoists me up, throwing me against the wall and holding me there with his powers. He didn’t hurt me though, it was as if he was only trying to make a point, the make me see how much he wants to know, where if it was anyone else, even Sam, he would’ve at least hurt them a little. So, why didn’t he hurt me? “Cas,” he continues, looking me pleadingly in the eyes, his face so close his breath in warm against my face, “you can tell me.” I gulp, looking anywhere but at him. “Cas!” he says again, pushing me slightly harder against the wall, but still not hurting me.  
“Dean,” I plead, unable to tell him the truth. I can’t take heartbreak again, it was too hard. I don’t want to hear him reject me. I can’t.  
“Ple-ase!” he tries again, his voice breaking. He rests his forehead against mine, “please,” he repeats, this time in a whisper. “I need to hear you say it,” his voice is barely audible, as if he didn’t even mean for me to hear it— but I did.  
“Dean, I-I- I love you,” I blurt, louder than I expected. A tear falls down my cheek accidentally, out of the fear of what I’m certain will happen next. But just when I think he’s going to reject me, his lips are pressed hard against mine. Needy and desperate and everything I’ve ever imagined them to be. I kiss him back deeper, not wanting it to end. He pulls away and I exhale hard. He leans over to put his lips right next to my ear.  
“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to continue this eventually, but if you liked it, PLEASE COMMENT (;


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